It's funny how things creep up on you. I've been attributing hormones, stress, all around depression, loneliness and a whole host of other reasons to why I feel like I feel. To why I make the decisions, good or bad, that I make.
The last couple years have showered me with shit. Shit that equals challenges such as car accidents, assaults, physical and emotional turmoil...and I do tend to get stuck underneath it. I try to keep the smile (although it's no longer mine), the laughter and the overall entertainment value high (even if it's delivered in a mixture of "it's all about me" and "I hate people"), but I am not always successful.
While I've been living in this post-apocalyptic Carissaism, trying to be everything and nothing to all people, I have this one nagging date creeping in. November 1st. We are moving our office to an incredible new location...25th floor, awesome views. A really great space. Of course I'm in a fishbowl, the only inner office in the suite and walled with glass, but outside of that, it's a great change. Stressful getting there, but the payoff should feel fabulous.
What else is happening on November 1st? That's the next potential parole hearing date for my ex who doesn't yet know he's an ex. The man who assaulted me. The one I truly thought, given some time to stew in his own juices, would grow up, realize what potential beauty he had in life and change. Ok - I was an idiot with flights of fancy. I had no real belief he would be able to change, it was just that basic human emotion - hope. I wanted my assault, my pain and loss to actually mean something. Turns out I'm just like every other victim of crime. A victim. No lofty changes will be gained from my pain, no good will be gained. His children still will not have a father. I will never have the movie-moment ending. No thank you for standing by him, trying to get him help even after he violated me. No nothing. But I let the fucking entertainment crap I watch so effortlessly to lead me to believe some good could come out of evil. Jokes on me.
Last week the inmate tracker system was down. I lost track of my inmate. I thought maybe he was out. And all of my bravado swirled down the drain. I was absolutely paralyzed. Then I got a long, long letter. The ramblings of a man in pain, a man who cannot see the forest through the trees, still not willing to let the light in and see his own contribution to what his life has become.
So. November 1st. Big day. I have no idea what it holds. And it's scaring the shit out of me.
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